What My Grandmother Knew

Backstroke & Breakthroughs – Post #17

I’ve had mentors, teachers, and even strangers shape who I am—but no one grounded me like my grandmother.

She wasn’t loud about her wisdom. She didn’t need a podium or a platform. Her teachings came from the front porch, from Sunday dinners, from quiet observations that sank in deep. And long before I ever spoke on a panel or stood in front of a DEI cohort, she showed me what true inclusion looks like: how you treat people when no one’s watching.

My grandmother raised us in a home that pulsed with difference—different skin tones, different backgrounds, different bloodlines—but she never let that become division. She used to say, “God don’t make extras. Everybody got a purpose.”

That stuck with me. Especially in rooms where people act like you’re lucky just to be invited. She taught me to see value in everyone, not because they had degrees or titles or money—but because they were human. And that core belief? It’s made me the facilitator I am today. The advocate. The leader. The listener.

In a world trying to rank and label us, she taught me how to recognize wholeness.

I remember one moment when a teacher said I “talked too much.” I was maybe 8. My grandma just looked at me afterward and said, “You got something to say—don’t let them take your mouth.”
That line is with me still.
It’s why I speak up even when it’s uncomfortable.
It’s why I push back when I see injustice—even if it’s dressed in professionalism.

She never got to see all the rooms I’ve walked into since. She never got to hear the applause or read the publications. But everything I do in this space—every conversation about equity, every effort to build bridges instead of walls—carries her voice.

This week’s takeaway:
Legacy isn’t just what someone leaves behind—it’s what they put in you to carry forward.

My grandmother planted courage, compassion, and clarity in me. She gave me the tools to love deeply, challenge fairly, and lead with open arms. And in a time when media and society are unraveling, her lessons feel more urgent than ever.

We need that kind of leadership. That kind of steadiness. That kind of spiritual backbone.
Because DEI isn’t just about modern strategies—it’s about ancestral wisdom.

And I’m proud to be walking in hers.

With her voice in my chest,
– J.R.